


colors in passing

by iamsolarflare



Series: fics about my fallen london ocs [1]
Category: Fallen London | Echo Bazaar
Genre: (nobody gets wasted dw), (well. the dude who dies gets wasted but. in the gta death screen sense), Gen, Recreational Alcohol Consumption, Temporary Character Death, canon is bent just slightly. a betrayal of measures if you will. the treachery of canon, it's just two dudes drinking and then one of 'em dies, that's all the tags i can think of. honest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:20:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28766226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamsolarflare/pseuds/iamsolarflare
Summary: as a general rule of thumb, people who go drinking in the forgotten quarter have some sort of agenda. either that, or they never leave the damn place
Relationships: None
Series: fics about my fallen london ocs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2165280
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	colors in passing

“Long day?”

The Song-Haunted Archaeologist looks up from his glass at the person who’s sat next to him. Plain-looking and pale, black hair, ordinary workman’s clothing. No defining features. He sighs. “Cantigaster for me, I suppose?”

The young Licentiate next to him sighs back. “No. Temporary trip downriver. How’d you guess?”

He shrugs, swirling his glass. “Pissed off a couple people a few digs ago. Figured one of ‘em would hold a grudge. Plus, the music in my head won’t shut up and you smell like gant.”

“Gant has a smell?” That catches the man off-guard; he hides his surprise well behind the guise of accepting the drink the bartender has just given him. It’s a clever modulation from surprise to pleasantry, really.

“Has a lack of one.” He drains the rest of his glass and signals for a new one. “Name’s Alex, by the way. Though you might have already known that.”

“I didn’t.” His will-be murderer shakes his head. “Murdoch Slate. Or Lock, on special occasions.”

“Mmh.” Alex sighs. “Confident I’m not going to come after your list, I suppose.”

“Relatively so.” Lock takes a sip of his own drink and wrinkles his nose -- cheap alcohol is an acquired taste, and this particular haunt of Alex’s is  _ exceptionally _ cheap in nature. “You don’t seem to have much interest in the profession.”

“Wrong ink color and all that. I’m a Correspondent.” Alex gives him a wry smile. “Sort of your opposite.” What he doesn’t say is he also looks like Lock’s opposite -- faded and moth-nibbled overcoat, like a dusty fashion statement from the tomb-colonies. He blends right into the Forgotten Quarter and into this two-bit tavern.

Lock is clean-cut in comparison. No dust. Aggressively normal-looking, no air of any particularly distinctive qualities to speak of. For someone who’s used to paying attention to little details for long periods of time, the lack of little details is overwhelmingly obvious.

Lock drums his fingers against his glass softly. “Can I ask a question, Alex?”

“You  _ can, _ yeah.”

“How do you keep your eyebrows?”

Alex snorts. “Really? Any question and  _ that’s _ what you go with?”

Lock shrugs. “I don’t pry. It seems relatively impersonal as far as questions go.”

“Fair enough.” He takes another sip of watered-down cheap alcohol. “You get a feel for it after a very long time, start seeing similarities in the ones that catch you on fire. Technically I have a bit of an advantage, but I won’t trouble you with the details since they’re relatively personal.”

“I’m guessing it’s the music in your head that you mentioned earlier,” Lock says calmly.

He raises an eyebrow. “You catch on fast.”

“Part of the job. I notice things too. Different things.” Lock takes a sip of his own drink again and swirls it. “Like that this is about fifty-one percent water, twenty-four percent each of two different alcohols of no particular importance, and one percent Muscaria Brandy.”

“That much of a percentage?” He can’t hide the fact that he’s impressed, because the rapid calculation is nothing to laugh at. Showing interest is a compliment as far as he’s concerned.

Lock shrugs. “Maybe an overestimation for the sake of clean numbers, if I’m being honest. It’s not enough to kill you any faster than alcohol poisoning will. Just enough that it feels obnoxiously slick on the back of the throat.”

“I see.” Alex sighs, takes another sip of his drink. Knowing what’s in it doesn’t make it taste any less bad -- in fact, if anything it tastes  _ worse _ . That, or the fact that he can’t feel his feet is entirely unrelated to his current state of inebriation, and considering he can normally hold his water fairly well…

He drains his glass with a grimace. “Hope you don’t mind me asking another question. How’d you get the nickname Lock, if it’s not too personal to ask?”

Lock blinks, then gives him a wry smile, a surprisingly expressive… expression… for how much of a short time he’s known the man. “Oh, that! It’s short for Hemlock.”

“Like the Surface tree?” Alex can no longer feel his legs, which is a worrying sign considering that he feels perfectly sober otherwise.

“Not quite, no.” Lock’s grin is half apologetic, half smug. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but Alex gets the distinct sense that he’s  _ trying _ nonetheless. “Different plant. The poisonous one.”

“That would explain why I feel like I’m dying, then.”

“It would.” Lock stretches, stands up from the bar. “Good talking to you, Alex.”

“Ugh.” He slumps onto the counter, attempting to ignore the cold creeping up his torso and along his fingers. “Should be illegal to have sleight-of-hand that good. I didn’t even look away from my drink.”

Lock snorts softly and pats him on the shoulder. “It’s very illegal. I’ll see you around. Tell the Boatman I said hello.”

Alex says nothing, on account of his being very (temporarily) dead.

**Author's Note:**

> New Acquaintance unlocked: the Plainclothes Chainbreaker.  
> \---  
> ANYWAY! i hope whoever sees this enjoyed this fic abt my two future alt accounts (lock's my planned metempsychosis character, and i'll be running alex/haunt alongside him). i can and Will infodump about these guys i care them a lot


End file.
